


Sacrilege

by someoriginalusername



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Kiss, M/M, Making Out, cobb convinces din to stay the night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28352736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someoriginalusername/pseuds/someoriginalusername
Summary: “Are you sure you can’t take off the helmet?”Din freezes.“Yes.”Cobb hums, “That’s a shame,” leaning further up to leave an open-mouthed kiss onto Din’s wrist, “I’d really like to kiss you right now.”
Relationships: Din Djarin/Cobb Vanth
Comments: 20
Kudos: 267





	Sacrilege

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eringilbert](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eringilbert/gifts), [theredvipers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theredvipers/gifts).



> this is entirely taylor swift's fault. do not listen to cowboy like me off of her album evermore. you will become gay and you will die.

Din sat in the middle of the room and stared at the wall. Were he anywhere else, he would have begun fiddling with his blaster. Or his armour. Anything to help him get his mind off the fact that he intentionally set his own plan back a few days to indulge a friendly Marshal. He could’ve turned him down, told him he had places to be and people to find, but something in the other man’s eyes stopped him. It wasn’t just the friendliness, a concept that Din himself was still just getting used to, but something more. 

Din is by no means an expert at gaging emotions, human or not, but he knows when there’s something brewing between himself and an opponent. Up until recently, it was something he secretly favored. In those situations, he at least knew what to do; reach for his blaster or the closest weapon to him and let his muscle memory do the rest. This, however, was an entirely different situation. The man that he had previously threatened had become a respectable ally, one that insisted he and the child stay for a day or two more as his guests. 

The concept of desire was by no means a foreign concept to him, but one he hardly ever allowed himself to indulge in. From the moment he spotted the other man in the cantina, he knew the man would be trouble. The slick, neat hair and sly grin of the other man suggested a confidence that Din was familiar when it came to his bounties, and fully cemented the fact that Din was fully prepared to do whatever was necessary to retrieve the armor from the stranger. 

What Din wasn’t expecting, however, was his warmth. Under the cocky grins and surefire attitude was a man who genuinely cared for his people, and while a little hot-headed when it came to dealing with anyone that wasn’t a citizen of his town, he was quick to befriend. When Din shook the other man’s hand in what he thought was a goodbye, he felt the genuine admiration in his grip, and saw the warmth of respect in his eyes. Despite wearing a helmet, Din found himself looking away, feeling as if the man was capable of looking into his eyes. In all honesty, it was a lot easier when they were on the verge of a shoot-out.

When the other man called out for him right before he and the child sped off into the desert, he felt himself halt in place. He had no idea why, but when the Marshal ran up to him, out of breath from the sprint over, and had placed a hand on Din’s shoulder and insisted he stay the night and celebrate the defeat of the dragon with him and his people, the first thing he could think of was how he wished he could feel the heat of his palm on his skin. Typically, Din was better at squashing any form of longing he felt, after years of practice, but the tender, hopeful look in the other man’s eyes, one that portrayed nothing but sincerity, stopped him in his tracks and made him agree to stay, before Din could even register what happened.

Any form of logic and resistance quickly dissipated when the marshal grinned at him, a look of cheerfulness that greatly contrasted the brash grin from before, and left Din reeling. The Marshal clapped him on the shoulder, before turning away and asking Din to give him a few minutes to tidy up his place. He had to stop himself from chasing the other man’s touch, despite his inability to feel it. 

Din busied himself helping the townspeople in setting up for a cook-out, and he had no idea how to react in their delight of him staying for the celebration. They all adored the kid, and he was happy to have their attention. As soon as he parked his speeder for the night, he found the youngling watching some children playing off in the distance. He recognized a woman from the town sitting off to the side, keeping watch of the three young ones as they ran around. She had helped in the plan to defeat the dragon, supplying the Marshal and himself with ammunition. She was happy to watch the child as Din helped with setting up the festivities, and the kid was happy to make new friends. 

Cobb emerged a little while later, apologizing for how long it took to clean up his ‘womp rat’s nest’, and helped with the rest of the organization. By the time the twin suns were beginning to set, the celebration was in full bloom. Din had sat by the group of children, keeping an eye on the child as he seemingly had the time of his life with the other children, until the Marshal had approached him.

“Not one for mingling, are you?" he asked as he sat down next to him. 

Din turned to him and hoped he could sense the look he gave him. Cobb laughed.

"I'm sure it would rock their worlds if you went over there and gave them a hearty speech on the dangers of speaking to strangers or something of the sort."

Din huffed a laugh, "Speaking to strangers?"

Cobb threw his hands up, "hey, you laugh, but we were both far too close to blasting each other to kingdom come not too long ago."

"I would've walked out just fine, by the way," Din remarked as he lounged against the pillar behind him.

Cobb snorted, "You'd like to think that wouldn't you.”

Before Din could come up with a witty retort, the child and a friend approached them. The child sat on the other’s shoulder as she pretended to be a speeder for the foundling. 

“Does he have a name?” the little girl asked, as the child held onto her head to stay balanced.

“He must, but I don’t know what it is.”

She stood there, lost in thought before she spoke up again. 

“Why don’t you give him a name? Like Sprog or Gunko or-”

“His name for right now is The Child,” Cobb spoke up with clear amusement in his voice. The little girl turned towards him, seemingly having forgotten he was there.

“Oh, hi Marshal Vanth.”

“Hi, Jorda.” He grinned at her, “Having fun?”

“Yeah, The Child is so cute, and Rafi said he didn’t like his teeth but I told him all teeth look weird and then he tried to get him to bite him which is even weirder but then The Child burped in his face and we all laughed. Except for Rafi, he started chasing us for laughing.” She said seemingly all within one breath. 

“No biting,” Din said to the foundling, and at the feigned sternness in his tone, the little girl turned back to him with a wide eyed look. 

Before he could tell her he was talking to The Child, the foundling burped again, leading her to gasp and exclaim, “I’m gonna go see if he’ll burp on Gara too, bye,” before she turned and jogged away with the child giggling happily on her shoulder. 

They sat in silence, watching the children play with their new friend, before Din broke the silence.

“This is good for him.”

Cobb hummed in agreement, “I bet he doesn’t get to do this often.”

“Nope.”

“What about you?”

Din turned towards the Marshal, “What?”

“You don’t get out a lot, do you?”

Din blinked, and in his silence, Cobb continued, “What I mean is, you don’t get to relax very often, do you?”

“No. I surprised myself with even agreeing to stay for tonight.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and watched as the child had the time of his life with his new friends.

Cobb patted him on his shoulder, and the grin he gave the Mandalorian nearly knocked the wind out of him.

“Well, I’m glad you did,” he said, hand resting on his shoulder plate. 

Din could do nothing but nod as it took everything in him to not blatantly lean into the other man’s touch. 

Eventually, they began exchanging stories, which actually involved Cobb relaying fantastical stories about all of the adventures and close calls he’s experienced while Din interjected every once in a while to make a comment or ask a question. Din would bring up a story of his own, but he was never one to talk. He was always more of a man of action, while Cobb seemed to find comfort in conversations. Din didn’t mind, he liked the sound of his voice, and the other man could charm the frills off of a Rodian. 

Din forgot that he was supposed to be watching the child, having gotten lost in the pleasant sound of the other man’s voice and his wild stories, until the little girl returned to them with the child in her arms.

“Mom said it’s bedtime, and Rafi and Gara just went home,” she said as she handed the sleepy child back to Din.

She turned to leave before she stopped herself.

“Can we play with him again tomorrow?”

Din felt the Marshal’s eyes on him as well, as they both waited for an answer.

“Uh, sure. A little bit before we leave.”

”Aw, okay,” the little girl frowned.

“Hey, y’know what, come knock on my door after lunch tomorrow and he’ll be all yours,” the Marshal answered.

“Okay!” she replied brightly, before saying goodnight to the child and skipping away.

“It’s probably best if we leave as early as we can,” Din said, choosing to not think about how the longer they stay, the harder it will be to leave. They had already stayed way longer than they should have, if the tight feeling he got in his chest at the sight of the other man’s smile was anything to go by. 

The other man stood up and offered him his hand, which he took, and helped him up. 

However, instead of letting go when he was up, the Marshal kept his grip on him, and the lack of distance between them left Din almost breathless. 

“Then I guess I should keep you up for as long as I can,” he said with a heat in his tone that left Din’s head spinning, before finally walking away.

Din could do nothing but gawk at the other man as he sauntered away, towards his home. They had teased each other earlier, and even did so during their story session, but Din had assumed he was subtle in his interest. Din was never one to flirt, and all of his past encounters came from a blunt desire to find release on both sides. Any form of genuine seduction was almost completely foreign to him.

He was brought back from his thoughts by the sound of the child whining at him, wanting to lay down and sleep after a long day of excitement.

“Alright, kid. Let’s get you to bed.”

* * *

**  
  
**

Cobb’s house was nearly indistinguishable from the other homes, but it was neat and tidy inside. As soon as he walked in, Cobb looked up from the kitchen table where he sat, and it seemed as if he was surprised that Din had followed him after the not-so-subtle flirtation.

Cobb moved to stand, and probably apologize, but before he could get a word out, Din spoke up. 

“He needs to sleep.”

This seemed to snap the Marshal out of his stupor.

“Oh, right, of course. Right this way, partner,” he said, with his lighthearted tone returning. 

Cobb led him down his hallway to the spare bedroom, which was completely empty save for the bed.

“Sorry,” the Marshal said, “I don’t get many visitors.”

“It’s perfect,” Din assured as he moved to park the child’s pod in the corner of the room, before laying his blankets on the bed and settling him in. 

Din nudged his knuckle against his cheek, and the baby cooed and grabbed at his gloved finger, starting a little game of tug of war, before Din said goodnight and left. Outside, Cobb was back at the table.

“The refresher is right across from you, take as long as you need, but keep in mind the more water you use means the more we both get to bask in my natural fragrance,” he joked, still seeming as if he was worried that the comment he made outside ruined any form of friendliness between them. Din decided to throw the poor Marshal a bone.

“That’s okay, I’ve gone this long without my nose shriveling off, I think it’d survive.” He said, returning to the teasing tone from earlier. 

Cobb’s eyes filled with mirth as he faked offense, “You know what, that must be your own essence you’ve got trapped up there, mistaking it for mine,” he said, tapping at his own head, indicating the helmet. 

Din smirked to himself, “You'd like to think that wouldn't you,” he said repeating the teasing from earlier, before entering the refresher.

He heard a muffled shout of “Do you even have a nose?!” through the door.

He took his time washing up, careful to not use too much water as he knew towns like this had a very limited supply, and taking plenty of time to stare into the mirror and contemplating taking the child and bolting or riding this out for however long they have, whatever this thing was.

He had had a chance at starting something with someone before, someone who seemed amazing, who was genuinely strong and kind and offered a promising future for him if he stayed. Omera wasn’t much different from Cobb in that way, but something, maybe the guilt of leaving her, had gotten him to stay this time. If only for a single night more.

By the time Din left the refresher, he had worked himself up back to a state of unease. Cobb emerged from what he assumed was his bedroom down the hall, with a towel in his hand.

“Finally, for a second I thought I hurt your feelings there. Now, if you excuse me, I have to deal with this before both of our noses shrivel off,” the Marshal said as he attempted to sidestep the Mandalorian. Din, however, had moved forward at the same time to allow the Marshal access to the room, and both ended up moving towards each other.

“Woah, easy, partner,” Cobb exclaimed as he stopped himself from running into him, “The armor is pretty, but I’d rather not get a concussion from accidentally headbutting you.”

“Sorry,” Din sighed, “I’m just tired.” 

“Yeah, me too. Don’t worry, I won’t be too long. I’ll just clean up a bit and then we can have a drink before hitting the hay,” he said, and Din noticed that he didn’t move away.

“Sounds good to me.”

“Great, I’ll just be a couple of minutes,” he said before finally entering the refresher.

Din sat down at the table, and found himself staring at the wall across from him, attempting to think about anything else but the man in the other room and how his shirt was undone and had exposed just a bit more of his chest than it had earlier that night.

* * *

True to form, Cobb emerges from the refresher a few minutes later, and enters the kitchen. Din notices, much to his chagrin, that the Marshal’s shirt is still undone as he places two glasses onto the table.

"Now, I may not know much about your culture, but I have a feeling that that helmet is not coming off,” the Marshal says as he sits down with two straws and pours liquor into the glasses.

“Yup.”

“So on that note, would you rather have the metal straw or this weird, long one that I got from the cantina a while ago?”

“The metal one is fine,” Din says as he attempts to reach for it, only to have the other man slide it away from him.

“Okay, but I kinda want to see you use the weird one.”

“You use it,” he huffs back as he snatches the shorter one from the Marshal.

“Alright,” he says, amusement clear in his tone, “Good luck with that,” he says as Din places the metal straw in his drink. He immediately realizes that there’s no possible way he’d be able to fit the straw under his helmet, but there’s also no possible way he’d give the other man the pleasure of using the other ridiculous straw. So, he settles to leave his drink untouched. Something the Marshal definitely picks up on, by the amused look that hasn’t left his face.

“So do you keep it on all the time?”

“Yup.”

“Always?”

“Yes.” 

“Even during-”

“I sleep in it as well, yes.”

“That’s not what I was going to- you know what, never mind.”

They sit in silence, with Cobb occasionally taking a sip of his drink. Din had begun eyeing up the larger straw, but wasn’t going to let the Marshal know. Finally, the other man breaks the silence.

“You know, I can’t possibly thank you enough for what you did today.”

Din shrugged, “We had a deal, we both kept our ends of it.”

“Yeah, but you went above and beyond that. What you did with that dragon, no matter how much it scared the _druk_ out of me, was astonishing. None of us will ever forget about it.”

Din all but squirmed, never having felt comfortable receiving compliments. He’d just thought of the most effective way to take down the beast, he’s sure Cobb would’ve done the same thing if he had thought about it enough. 

“What you said before you shot off into the dragon, about taking care of the kid,” he continued, “I know you probably didn’t think much of it, but it means a lot to me.”

Din knew exactly what he was talking about, but he had forgotten about it until this moment when he brought it up. Not for the first time that night, Din felt his face heating up under the helmet.

Ever so slowly, so that Din would be able to track his movement and stop him at any moment, Cobb lifts his hand and reaches across the table to place it on top of Din’s.

Without thinking, Din flips his hand up, allowing them to hold onto each other. Din feels the other man begin to rub his thumb down the side of his glove, and he suppresses a shiver at the thought of the feel of his skin on his own.

At the same pace with which Cobb placed his hand on his, with no confidence in his ability to stop his hands from shaking, Din removes his hand from Cobb’s to take off his glove, before reaching back to grab it and interlock their fingers. Cobb beamed at him, and it took everything in Din to not sprint away. 

This gorgeous man in front of him held so much adoration and warmth in his smile, that for a moment, Din wondered if his touch alone would scald him. As if he read his mind, the Marshal tilts his head towards his other arm.

“May I?”

Din nods.

The other man gently grabs his other arm by the wrist, and without breaking the hold of their already laced hands, removes the glove and places it next to the other one on the table. However, instead of lacing their hands together again, he picks it up slowly, and brings it so that Din is cupping the side of his face. 

Din nearly gasps from the feel of his bare palm on the other man’s cheek, not being able to remember the last time he touched someone in such an intimate way.

With Cobb’s eyes closed, and his grip firm on the both of his hands, Din begins to stroke his thumb across his cheekbone. He laces his fingers through the hair on the side of his head, and feels the release of his breath on his palm. He is absolutely captivated by this man, which puts more fear into his soul than the thought of diving into the mouth of a krayt dragon. 

Sensing his hesitation, Cobb opens eyes and smiles warmly at him, and begins stroking his own thumb across the back of the hand he held to his face. He shifts slightly in Din’s hand, and presses a long kiss to the inside of his palm. 

At his Din’s sudden intake of breath, Cobb smiles at him, and continues to press into his touch.

“Are you sure you can’t take off the helmet?”

Din freezes.

“Yes.”

Cobb hums, “That’s a shame,” leaning further up to leave an open-mouthed kiss onto Din’s wrist, “I’d really like to kiss you right now.”

Din can feel his brain short circuit as the other man continues to leave kisses up and down his hand and wrist.

It takes him a while, but eventually he’s able to rasp out, “You could if you want.”

Cobb stops what he’s doing and stares at him. 

“I thought you said-”

“It has to be dark, and I’d have to blindfold you, but it’s possible,” Din continues on.

Technically, that’s also not allowed, but it’s also not completely unheard of, as he had heard of his peers doing the same thing when they were younger. His past encounters never involved the helmet coming off, but none of his past encounters had also ever made him feel like this before, as if he was starving and had been starving his whole life and hadn’t realized it until he walked into a cantina in the small town of Mos Pelgo. 

As long as no one would see his face, he rationalizes with himself.

The Marshal raised a brow, before giving Din a bright smile, “Sounds fun.”

* * *

They sit in Cobb’s bedroom, with the lights off but the door slightly open so that Din could be able to see a bit, to prevent headbutting and falling off the bed. 

Cobb has his scarf wrapped around his eyes, and a couple of gestures make it clear that he’s not able to see anything under it. Despite this, Din feels as if all of the oxygen is quickly being drained from the room. Sensing his unease, Cobb reaches out for him, and his hand lands on his thigh.

“Hey, listen, we don’t have to do this. I could take this off right now, and all we could do is just hold hands, maybe snuggle a bit until we conk out.” 

It sounds nice, and Din would have probably agreed, had the Marshal’s hand landed anywhere else on his body. 

Slowly, without saying a word, Din begins undoing the straps of his armor, as Cobb removes his hand and waits.

By the time Din gets to his flight suit, he is breathing as if he had just run circles around the place. He grabs Cobb’s hand and guides it towards the zipper at the top of the suit, and they both undo it until they reach his lap. Din’s eyes have barely left the other man since they sat down, almost as if he’s worried that if he looks away, everything would disappear as if he was dreaming. His blood ran hot with both excitement and fear, as he was both in awe that he’s not alone in his desire, and that he was allowing himself to do this. 

Cobb interrupts his thought process by reaching for Din’s chest, and resting his warm hand right over his heart. The gentleness of his touch leaves Din reeling, and he wraps his own hand around Cobb’s, wondering if the man can feel the rapid pace of his heartbeat.

With shaking hands he reaches for his helmet, and gently lifts it off, eyes never leaving the other man, as if looking for any flash of emotion on his face to indicate that the scarf isn’t wrapped well enough. Cobb doesn’t move.

Din places the helmet on the floor next to the bed, and directs Cobbs hand to the side of his face, mirroring the tender moment from the kitchen, and lets the other man’s wandering fingers caress him from the length of his nose to the curves of his cheekbones. Din relaxes into his touch and tries to regulate his breathing.

When Cobb’s hands reach his hair, one hand curls into the scruff of his neck and the other one rests on the side of his head. If he reaches up, Din could kiss the inside of his palm, so he does. Cobb grins, and then finally speaks up.

“What color?”

Din pauses.

“Brown.”

Cobb hums as he continues to cascade his fingers softly through his hair.

“What about your eyes?”

“Also brown.”

Cobb’s hands leave his hair, and Din all but whines at the loss of his warmth. Cobb grasps for Din’s hands, and raises them to his mouth, leaving soft kisses on his hands.

“I would say that you feel absolutely gorgeous, but that would sound ridiculous, so I won’t say that.”

Din snorted, “It would, you’re right.”

Cobb huffed a laugh.

“What I _will_ say, though, is that I know that this must be a pretty huge deal for you, so I thank you for the opportunity.” At Din’s stunned silence, he continues. 

“Well, that sounded like we’re in the middle of a business deal, so I’ll just shut up for n-”

Din kisses him. 

Din had assumed that the first kiss would shut his brain down completely, but instead it leaves him hyper-aware of everything. The softness of the other man’s lips, the scratch of both of their stubbles, the sharp intake of breath from the Marshal, everything. He feels like he’s drowning.

As amazing as it feels, he’s also hyper-aware that he has little to no experience in such an action, so when Cobb’s takes over the kiss by readjusting the slide of their lips, he secretly rejoices. He may not know what he’s doing, but he does know that whatever the other man is doing feels like nothing he’s ever felt before. Thus, Din opts to follow his movements, keeping his mouth closed to a certain extent, and following the motions of his lips, staying cautious over the amount of pressure used. 

Eventually, the kisses grow more heated to the point where Din feels as if he’s hanging on to the other man for dear life. He is drowning, and Cobb is his saving grace. 

Din shivers when he feels his tongue slip between his lips. He flat out groans when the other man nips the bottom of his lip, and lightly laps his tongue over the sting. He feels them both drawing closer to each other, eager hands grasping at each other's warmth, as any form of advertence he felt at the start gradually dissipates until Din can’t focus on anything but the wet heat of Cobb’s mouth. He feels more than hears the other man’s gasps and groans through the touching of their chests, and Din isn’t sure he’ll ever feel as euphoric as he is right in this moment.

Cobb eventually draws back, for which Din is slightly grateful as he was beginning to feel a burn in his chest from the lack of oxygen, but was also completely unwilling to do something about it. The Marshal looks utterly debauched, mouth swollen and hair sticking up wildly in different directions, and Din is sure he doesn’t look much different himself. The other man leans his head against Din’s, resembling that of a Keldabe kiss, and Din swears his heart is about to explode.

“Well, Maker above,” Din focuses on the feel of the other man’s breath on his skin. The Marshal doesn’t continue, but further leans over until his face is buried into the crook of Din’s neck. Din can’t help the noise that escapes his mouth when Cobb begins to leave warm kisses trailing up and down his neck. After a particularly deep groan when the other man sucks on the skin just above his pulse, the Marshal draws back. Din wonders when the room started spinning.

Cobb leaves a hand on the back of his neck, and buries it in his hair, before dropping his head onto Din’s shoulder.

“I haven’t been kissed like that since, _kriff_ , since I don’t know when,” he huffs. Din leans into him, resting his head against Cobb’s.

“Same.”

Cobb huffs a laugh, “Have you ever been kissed? Before that?”

“No.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Not knowing what to say to that, Din opts to just run his hand through the other man’s hair. They sit in comfortable silence, until Cobb clears his throat and sits up.

“Right, I don’t want to presume anything, but we could continue doing what we just did, and take it further, or we could just stop. Go to sleep, cuddle up and spoon. I’d even let you be the big spoon,” he grinned, and Din didn’t have the heart to tell him that he has no idea what spoons have to do with sleeping.

“Or,” Din says, before he leans in to place another soft kiss to his lips, “We could just continue doing what we're doing and you could teach me all of your tricks.”

Cob snorts, “So you can claim them all as your own?”

“To who exactly?”

Cobb’s expression turns to one of contemplation.

“You got me there.”

Din grins despite himself, and Cobb leans back in. They begin exchanging more lazy kisses, until Din interrupts them. He briefly notes the way the other man chases after his touch.

“I think I just want to continue this,” he says, “And just this.”

The other man nods, “More than okay with me, partner.” 

Din scrunches his nose at the word.

“Din.”

“Hm?”

“My name’s Din.”

There's silence, until Cobb leans in to trail more kisses over his neck.

“Well, that’s more than okay with me, Din.”

* * *

Din wakes up with a heavy weight laying only on the left side of his body. For a moment, he can’t remember where he is until he opens his eyes and sees the small, quaint interior of Cobb’s bedroom. The man himself has his arm thrown over Din’s chest, with his head facing the other side of the room. Somehow, the scarf is still wrapped around his head. Sure enough, the entire left side of his body is resting under the Marshal’s weight. Din wonders how he was even able to sleep through the night with the other man on top of him like this, as he’s a light sleeper. He’s not about to complain, though. If anything, he wishes the man was facing him, so he could kiss him on the forehead before he gets up to go to the refresher. He contemplates turning his head towards him to do so, as it would probably be way more comfortable for his neck, but is interrupted by the man shifting in his sleep.

The other man mumbles something unintelligible into his pillow, as he curls up off of Din, removing the scarf, and drawing the blanket over himself. Din watches in amusement as the Marshal, still more than half asleep, rearranges himself onto his side so that he’s wrapped up completely in his blanket, fully depriving Din of any use of it. He then takes an extra pillow and plops it over his head, shielding his face from the glare of the sun.

The whole display leaves Din’s heart fluttering. It’s possibly one of the most endearing moments he’s ever experienced, second only to the existence of the child sleeping in the other room. 

The thought of the child shakes him out of his stupor, and he opts to put his helmet on and check on the youngling, who likes to wake early. Just as he thought, the foundling is standing up on the bed, attempting to peer out of the much taller window off to the side of the room. At the sound of the door, he turns around, and squeals his excitement at the sight of Din. 

“Hey, buddy.”

The child fumbles towards him as Din sits on the edge of the bed. The kid then climbs onto his lap, and begins babbling, presumably about whatever caught his attention outside of the window, and Din listens in with feigned interest, as if he understands exactly what the child is saying. 

The kid loves it when he does this, replying to him as if they were actually having a two-way conversation. He always begins to burble on even more excitedly. Today’s no exception as he carries the child into the refresher to wash him up, interjecting every now and then with a comment or question that eggs him on. 

When he exits, he hears shuffling in the kitchen. He fetches the child’s pod in the room and places him in it, before leading him out to the kitchen. 

He finds the Marshal, hair even messier than the night before, clad in loose fitting pants and the shirt from the day before, making breakfast. He turns and grins at the both of them.

“Howdy,” he greets them warmly before turning back to what’s sizzling in the pan, “I trust that y’all slept well?” 

“I would’ve, if I had any blankets to use.”

The Marshal freezes in his place, before he whips around with a startled expression.

“I didn’t-” he begins, but Din decides to spare him.

“You didn’t," he grins under the helmet and hopes the Marshal can hear it in his voice. "I slept well, thank you.”

Cobb scoffs and turns back to what he was doing, shaking his head. Din can tell he’s also smiling.

“The child slept well too, I think. He’s not crying right now, which is promising.”

Cobb then turns to serve them their breakfast.

“Well thank the Maker for that. Does he cry often?’ he asks, as he dishes out the food for all three of them.

“Not much, actually. Thankfully,” Din says, as he reaches over to pat the little one on the head. 

“That’s good, he doesn’t seem much like a trouble maker,” Cobb says as he sits himself down across from the both of them, and digs into his food. 

Din snorts. “Well, I wouldn’t say that.”

Cobb smiles at him in between bites of his food, until he realizes Din hasn’t touched his plate.

“Stars!” he exclaims, startling the child, “I forgot, I can take the kid with me into the other room if you want." Din shakes his head.

“No, no, it’s okay. I can wait 'til you’re both finished.”

“Are you sure? It’s no big deal, and I didn’t see you eat anything last night.”

“I had some of the dragon meat before you sat down with me. I went behind one of the houses," Din explains.

Cobb nods, but continues to eye him up.

“Well, I’m glad. Nothing sucks bantha nuts more than traveling on an empty stomach.”

At the reminder of their upcoming departure, Din looks away. He honestly forgot that they were supposed to leave today. 

“Right.”

Cobb must pick up on his noticeable shift in mood, because he reaches across the table.

“Hey, no hurry. It’s still early, and the kid’s got a playdate coming up, right? Wouldn’t want him to miss that.”

His lighthearted tone helped, “Of course not,” he says, voice dripping in sarcasm.

The Marshal grins at him, and he finishes his breakfast in silence.

“Right,” he sighs as he gets up to clean his dishes, the child still getting through his meal.

“I’m going to go take a look at your speeder, and if the kids are out I’ll tell them to come say hi before y’all go.”

“Sounds good to me,” Din says as he leans over to help the child tear a piece of his food.

“Good, good,” the other man says, just barely being able to hide his now morose tone. 

When he’s finished with his dishes, he turns back towards the two of them.

“I’ll just go get changed then, then I’ll go make sure everything is spic-and-span for your journey.”

“Okay,” Din said somberly.

“Alright,” Cobb agrees, almost like he’s trying to motivate himself to do what he just said. He takes a moment, staring at the table, before he blinks out of it and moves to his bedroom.

Din listens to his footsteps gradually subside. He waits for a second, before he turns to the child.

“I’ll be right back, don’t move.” He barely waits for the kid’s gurgled agreement before he’s out of his chair, marching to the Marshal’s room.

He finds him halfway through peeling his shirt off, and it takes a lot in him to not stand in his place and watch. Cobb nearly jumps out of his skin when he sees him standing at the door.

“Holy kriffing hell,” he exclaims, bending over, “you scared the druk out of me.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he says huffing, before standing back up and throwing his shirt to the corner of his room. “What’s up?”

Din looks around the room, and spots the scarf on the floor. He reaches down and picks it up, before approaching the other man.

Cobb stays silent, picking up on what he's about to do, and closes his eyes as Din wraps the fabric around him. Mirroring his movements from the night before, Din slowly takes his helmet off and places it on the floor.

He feels Cobb rest his hand on his waist, and he leans in to leave a soft kiss onto the Marshal’s mouth. This kiss feels vastly different from any of the ones from the night before. This kiss was soft and slow, and they maintained a steady pace as they put all of the words they couldn’t bring themselves to say into it. This kiss was both a goodbye and a see you later, a promise to return, even if Din was incapable of promising anything, and a thank you, from them both, for allowing them to even indulge in this. Din could tell that they both needed this.

When they break apart, Cobb is grinning the warm, beautiful smile of his that never fails to make Din nearly stumble, as if he was staring directly at one of the suns itself. 

He pulls Din into a hug, and Din revels in the opportunity to fit his face into the crook of the other man’s neck. Din has no idea how long they stand there, holding onto each other and basking in each other’s presence, until they both pull away. 

Din puts on the helmet once again, and Cobb removes his scarf. 

They stand where they are, just looking at each other, until Cobb’s smile grows pained.

“Oh, man. Saying goodbye is going to hurt.”

Din nods, “For now.”

“Hm?”

“Goodbye for now,” he elaborates, and Cobb’s smile returns.

“You’re going to come back?”

“We're going to try.”

At that, Cobb grabs the back of his neck, and brings him in until his forehead is touching the helmet. Din’s heart leaps at the movement, and he rests his head against his as much as he can without pushing him back. The moment breaks when they hear the clattering of a utensil falling to the floor in the kitchen.

“Dank farrick,” Din murmurs as Cobb steps away from him with a laugh.

“Aw, it’s alright, he’s probably just wondering where his daddy went.”

Before Din can reply, Cobb steps aside and grabs a shirt from a drawer. He turns towards Din at the door, and offers him one last radiant smile before turning towards the kitchen.

Din sighs. Saying goodbye _is_ really going to hurt.

**Author's Note:**

> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5qbwucX7pvqVUkT0B97Bub?si=3tX6omkLSSO3qZwQ4WeDsw
> 
> I made this for them 🤪


End file.
